My Husband Gave My Lunch to His Assistant, So I Left Him

4: 4

My whole body went rigid. I stared at Richard in disbelief, and all I found in his eyes was insistence and cold indifference.

The blood in me turned cold, bit by bit.

After a while, I turned my head toward Clara like something already dead, and said each word slowly:

"I'm sorry."

The moment it was out, I forced back the sob rising in my throat and turned to leave, but a woman's voice stopped me.

"Wait! You slandered me and you think a light little sorry is enough?"

Clara's eyes were red as she glared at me, unwilling to let it go.

I clenched my teeth, my fingertips trembling.

"What else do you want?"

Clara shrank into Richard's arms, the picture of pitiful innocence.

"Richard, she almost got me killed, almost killed our baby. So I want her to kneel and apologize to me, all right?"

My head snapped up toward Richard, and he nodded his agreement without the slightest hesitation.

He looked at me, his eyes leaving no room for refusal.

"May, kneel and apologize to Clara!"

My heart clenched with sudden pain.

The man who years ago had paid a fortune to buy those photos to protect me was now using those same photos to force me to my knees before the other woman.

"May, apologize to Clara!"

Richard barked it again, a warning in his eyes.

I bit down hard, my mouth flooding with the taste of blood.

But when I thought of what would happen if those photos got out, thought of the disappointment in my parents' eyes all over again, I still bent my knees.

The floor bit into my knees, and Clara looked down at me from above.

It went on for a long time, until she finally curled her lip.

"Richard, I want to go home."

Richard carried Clara away. The wind on the rooftop pushed against my back, and it dried my tears too.

I went home alone, and the first thing I saw when I stepped through the door was Clara on the couch.

Richard saw me come in and said, careless, "Clara's got some morning sickness, but she's used to your cooking. You'll be looking after her for a while."

"Consider it your way of making it up to her."

My throat worked, and every word I could have said turned into one slap, landing hard across Richard's face.

His head jerked to the side, stunned. Clara instantly threw her arms around him and screamed at me:

"How dare a housekeeper hit her employer! If Richard hadn't said you're too old to find another job, we'd have fired you long ago just for pining after your employer!"

The girl's face was flushed with anger, but I only found it laughable.

"Richard, you're calling me the housekeeper again?"

Richard's expression shifted. He pulled me aside and said in a low voice, "For the baby's sake, let's keep it from Clara a little longer."

"Just behave, and I'll raise your living allowance more after this."

I twisted my lips, about to speak, when Clara suddenly let out a small whimper.

"Richard, I'm so hungry, the baby's hungry too. I want fish stew right now, this second. Go buy some, okay?"

At that, Richard shot me a warning look, then grabbed his car keys and went out the door.

Just like that, the apartment held only me and Clara. My face cold, I turned to go back to my room, but Clara blocked my path.

"Don't rush off, you old hag. Take a look at this!"

I hadn't wanted to give her the time of day, but the next second I saw my own private photos on the girl's phone screen.

The same private photos Richard had once bought out, the ones he'd told me had already been destroyed.

That night, stripped bare and forced to face the camera, rose up in my mind again.

I was shaking all over, and without thinking I moved to snatch the phone.

But before my hand even touched Clara, she was already on the floor.

I stepped toward her, reaching again for the phone, when a violent pain tore through my side.

Richard drew his foot back and lifted Clara up, frantic.

All I could feel was the wetness spreading between my legs, and the pain in my lower belly sharpening to the limit.

But Richard didn't spare me another glance, sweeping Clara up and striding out.

After he left, the blood between my legs came heavier and heavier.

Then everything went black, and I lost consciousness completely.

When I opened my eyes again, there was a blinding stretch of white before me.

A woman's voice reached my ear.

"Don't move around. You just had a miscarriage with heavy bleeding, you need bed rest."

"Miscarriage" "heavy bleeding"?

The words stabbed straight through my nerves. Without thinking I reached for my belly, my face gone bloodless.

The child I'd begged for through more than a hundred rounds of IVF, the child I'd longed and longed for.

Gone, just like that, without my even knowing.

And before I could surface from that crushing grief, the phone on the nightstand rang.

The caller ID said Mom.

"May, what's the story with those photos online?"

"What in the world have you been doing out there all these years?"

Something seemed to detonate in my head. I could barely make out the rest of what my mother said, only an endless ringing left in my ears.

The photos had gotten out after all?

That fact repeated over and over in my mind, and my limbs suddenly locked up, unable to move for a long time.

The phone slipped to the floor and shattered into pieces, and my mother's voice cut off entirely.

It was a long while before I moved, long enough that my back was soaked with sweat. I forced myself up, signed my own discharge papers, and asked for a copy of the injury report.

The phone was smashed and useless, so I threw it out with the SIM card straight into the trash.

Then, outside the hospital, I borrowed a phone from a passerby and dialed the number of Richard's worst enemy.

"I'll agree. Every document you want, I can give you."